I catch myself adding extra layers. Reasons, explanations, small stories that make things sound better.

No one asked for them. No one needed them. But I put them there anyway, as if to head off a question that never came.

It’s not lying. It’s a way of controlling the space – protecting myself from being misunderstood, judged, or dismissed before it even happens.

The irony is that most of the time, it’s unnecessary. The scaffolding is mine alone, not theirs.

Maybe the practice is to notice the urge, and let it pass. To see what happens when nothing is pre-empted.